Film Review
If the director-screenwriter Bernard Borderie is remembered today it is
most likely for his
Angélique
films, a popular series of sultry historical-romantic dramas that made
Michèle Mercier a household name in France and traumatised a
whole nation's adolescents. What is less well-known is that
Borderie is closely associated with another iconic character in French
popular culture, the indestructible FBI agent Lemmy Caution. It
was Borderie who directed Lemmy's first film adventure (arguably the
best in the series)
La Môme vert de gris
(1953), which was immediately followed by Jean Sacha's
Cet homme est dangereux
(1953). Borderie then returned to direct
Les Femmes s'en balancent
(1954), after which Pierre Chevalier took over the reins with
Vous pigez? (1956).
By this point the old Caution magic (which derived from an
unsophisticated but cheerful pastiche of the American B-movie at its
near-worst) was beginning to wear a little thin, although the films
(inexplicably) were still proving to be very popular with French
audiences. Lemmy's next three adventures were filmed by Borderie,
Comment qu'elle est (1960),
Lemmy pour les dames (1961),
and
À toi de faire... mignonne
(1963). It was only after completing this last string of Lemmy
Caution films that Borderie was able to make
Angélique, marquise des anges
(1964), and perhaps redeem himself in the eyes of some critics.
If we exclude Jean-Luc Godard's attempt to deconstruct the Caution myth
with
Alphaville (1965),
À toi de faire mignonne is
the seventh and last of the Lemmy Caution films. Released on 25th
September 1963, it is a Franco-Italian production based on
Your Deal My Lovely, a novel by
Caution's celebrated creator, Peter Cheyney.
With Lemmy Caution poised to pick up his pension book (or at least
waiting to receive a ticket to the mysterious computer-controlled
metropolis Alphaville), the formula is by now sickeningly familiar -
the usual potpourri of American-style thriller clichés served up
with a superficially attractive French garnish. Trite and
predictable it may have been but the recipe was still incredibly
popular - this latest film attracted an audience of 1.6 million in
France. And, to be fair, the film's lack of sophistication and
originality do not denude it entirely of entertainment value, even for
the more discerning of B-movie aficionados. This is classic film
noir in low calorie soufflé form, an appetising little snack
that is pleasing enough but leaves you with a hankering after something
much more substantial, preferably something involving Humphrey Bogart
or James Cagney.
À toi de faire mignonne
may have its shortcomings but its production values are still pretty
impressive for a middle-of-the-road crime movie of this era, the main
assets being Henri Persin's slick photography and Paul Misraki's
enjoyably hackneyed cocktail bar jazz score. Eddie Constantine
plays his most famous character with his habitual charm and gusto, and
if he was tired of the role by this time he manages to hide it
remarkably well. This was after all the part he was born to play,
making him the most unlikely star of mainstream French cinema in the
1950s and 60s. Constantine's famous lack of acting prowess (which
led some critics to regard him as the worst actor of his generation)
meant that he seldom appeared alongside other big name actors, and this
last Caution escapade is no exception.
Cover girl and fading Italian star Gaia Germani, who first made her
mark in France with Georges Lautner's
L'Oeil du monocle (1962), is an
interesting and effective choice for the female lead, and Christiane
Minazzoli, who appeared in numerous B movies between 1949 and 1996, is
an admirable choice for the convicted Carlotta Strasser. The
contingent of sizzling
femmes fatales
is completed by the German actress and singer Elga Andersen, seen in
Lautner's
Monocle films - her
feisty persona makes her ideal for the role of Montana, the gang
leader's mistress. Philippe Lemaire is suitably cast as the
womanising gangster Enrico Pranzetti whilst Guy Delorme revels in the
role of the wicked Elmer Whittaker, the villain of the piece.
Noël Roquevert and Hubert Deschamps complete an adequate but far
from distinguished supporting cast.
If the previous Lemmy Caution films had shown a noticeable drift
towards self-concious parody,
À
toi de faire mignonne
struggles to avoid being an outright spoof, with the whole thing
sliding uncomfortably into farce and slapstick towards the end.
Some
tacky, low-grade humour diminishes a script which is, by and large, one
of the most respectable in the Lemmy Caution series. Our Federal
agent's frequent attempts to break the fourth wall (by winking at and
talking into the camera) merely confirm what we know - the series had
well and truly run its course and was fit only to be subjected to the ultimate
Mickey-take by JLG as part of his binge crusade against popular culture
in the 1960s.
© Willems Henri (Brussels, Belgium) 2013
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Next Bernard Borderie film:
Angélique, marquise des anges (1964)